


Wayne Manor

by redh00d0utlaw



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Multi, batcow is there, theyre all cowboys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-01-17 21:58:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12374958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redh00d0utlaw/pseuds/redh00d0utlaw
Summary: Bonanza-style Batman AU where Wayne Manor is one of the last farms in Gotham, Indiana to avoid machinery and chemicals at all costs, despite the land being bought up around them. Batboys as cowboys. Bull riding. Evil corporations. The infamous Batcow. Just your average misfit family with a lot of snark.





	1. Wayne Manor

    “Now, Mr. Wayne, traditional farming is going out of style. Within 10 years, your farm is going to be obsolete. Stop holding on to this ridiculous notion of yours, and sign the damn papers. It’ll provide for you and your, well, family for the rest of your lives.”  
    Bruce Wayne glared from underneath his hat, a glint of malice slicing out from his blue eyes. He was getting really tired of Mr. Dent’s assholery. He had far better things to be spending his time on. In fact, anything would be more worthwhile than this hellhole of a conversation.  
    “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Dent. I have no intention whatsoever of getting rid of this farm. It is my one of my prides and joys, and no amount of money can equate what I have built here. Now the door out is to your left, kindly shut it behind you.”   
    Bruce stood up and walked out of the room, leaving Mr. Dent dumbfounded. Bruce heard Mr. Dent choke back indignation, and smirked as he headed towards the fields. Before he managed to open the door, he heard the door slam shut as Harvey Dent stormed off.   
    Wayne Manor proudly overlooked a thousand acres of rolling grasslands in Gotham, Indiana. Bruce had inherited the beauty from his parents when they died, leaving him with enough knowledge to keep it going. And he did. And he learned every corner, every acre of that land like it was him himself. There was no way, and he meant no way that he would let it go. Dent could pry it from Bruce’s cold dead hands.  
    Bruce’s parents had died in a car accident when he was ten, and each day spent on the farm made him feel closer to the two of them. And over time, Bruce had put together a misfit family himself.   
    Bruce checked his watch. The meeting had taken far too long and he hoped that Dick and Damian milked the cows on time.   
    He stepped outside, and breathed in the crisp air. He loved his home.  
    “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOA!”   
    Bruce turned towards the source of the noise. He couldn’t say he was surprised.  
    Galloping down the nearest hill was a cow. But not just any cow. It was Damian’s favorite cow, the one he donned “Batcow” after his favorite comic book character. But it wasn’t the appearance of the cow that was so unusual. It was the fact that Dick was tied to the back of it.  
    “BRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Dick pleaded as the cow came to a stop and chewed on the grass.  
    Bruce suppressed a smile. “What’s the matter, Batcow? Something weighing you down?”  
    “THIS ISN’T FUNNY BRUCE.”  
    “You’re right. I’m not laughing.”  
    “YOU ARE ON THE INSIDE AND YOU KNOW IT.”  
    “Dick, did you forget how to milk a cow?” Dick continued to squirm, failing at untying the rope that bonded him and the cow.   
    “DAMMIT BRUCE.”  
    “I’m sure Damian could show you how.”  
    “DAMIAN IS THE SOURCE OF THIS PROBLEM.”  
    “Dick, are you trying to tell me that Damian made you forget how to milk a cow?”  
    “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH,” Dick groaned.  
    Bruce doubled over in laughter. He knew he shouldn’t have, especially as he watched Dick blush more and more, flailing against the restraints. Batcow continued to graze peacefully, either blissfully unaware of Dick’s plight or perhaps indifferent to it.  
    Bruce caught his breath. “How in the world did you get roped up in such a situation?”  
    “Bruce I fucking swear you need to stop with the puns.” Dick flailed more.  
    “Okay serious time.” Bruce began to untie the well done knot. “How did you actually end up tied to Batcow?”  
    “Damian did it.”  
    “No, I understand that. My question is more along the lines of how he did it. Of course I’m making the assumption that you didn’t just let him tie you to a cow.” He finished undoing the knot and let Dick hit the ground with a thump. Dick groaned again.  
    “I may or may not have been sleeping when I should have been milking cows.”  
    “Dick…” Bruce chided, holding out a hand to Dick to help him up.  
    “I mean, Damian is 13 so he’s practically an adult and he likes milking them anyway so I thought…”  
    “You apparently thought wrong.” Bruce said, dusting his hands off. “I should have left you tied to Batcow.”  
    “Come on, Bruce,” Dick pleaded, grinning. “You know you love me.”  
    “Sadly I do. Don’t you have some other work to be doing?”  
    “Yeah, I guess--by the way, how did the meeting with Dent go? Did he finally get the picture?”  
    Bruce sighed. “I don’t think so. I can only hope.”  
    “I mean, what can he do, right? It’s your farm after all.”  
    “That’s what I’m afraid of.”  
Bruce adopted Dick Grayson when Dick had just turned twelve. Dick’s parents worked on the farm next door, one of the many that had been shut down by the likes of Dent. Bruce had never really expected to have children, but he and Dick bonded quickly. Fifteen years later and it had only grown stronger.  
Dick had grown up to be a handsome man, tall and muscular from his work on the farm. Dick primarily managed the work with the sheep, but also helped Damian in milking the cows. Bruce tried to limit the amount of machinery involved with farming, feeling that it wasn’t natural enough. Therefore, it took a lot of work milking the cows.  
    Just as Bruce had finished his sentence and before Dick could respond, Jason sauntered up, hair dripping with sweat. Jason Todd was the second boy that Bruce had adopted on a trip to Chicago. He had made the mistake of parking his car in an alley, and to his surprise, an eight year old was stealing his tires. He had seen something in Jason, something that needed a family. And though there had been some bumps in the road, Bruce believed that Jason came out alright.  
Like Dick, Jason had grown tall (taller than Dick) and muscular. Jason trained the horses, trying to figure out what made the unruly horses tick and get them to cooperate. Bruce wondered if it was a coincidence that Jason had such an affinity for the work. On the side, Jason also participated in Gotham’s rodeos, and had won several of the bull riding competitions.  
“What’s with you, Dick? Had a little mud wrestle?” Jason smirked, winking at Dick. Dick got flustered as Jason continued. “I almost have Daisy broken in. Give me a few more days and she’ll be happy to wear a saddle.”  
“Looks like someone has been working hard,” Bruce said pointedly, giving Dick a look out of the corner of his eye. “You think we should keep her or sell her?”  
“Hm, I don't know,” Jason started, getting serious. “She would make a fine show horse but she eats so much. Ultimately up to you.”  
“Well I do trust your judgement, Jason.”  
“That’s a first,” Jason joked. “Wouldn’t make a habit of it.”  
“I might just have to,” Bruce added cryptically. Before anyone could ask him to elaborate, he asked “Do either of you know where Damian is?”  
“Here, Father,” Damian said as he jumped from the top of the nearby tool shed.   
Damian was the only one of Bruce’s sons who was biological. Damian arose from a fling that he had when he went overseas to visit a friend. The mother wanted to “find herself”, and left Bruce with the kid. Bruce didn’t mind in the slightest.  
As Damian was only 15, he mostly took care of the smaller jobs on the farm, liking milking the cows and collecting eggs from the chickens.   
“Do I want to know what you were doing up there?”  
“I had to get footage of Grayson making a fool of himself,” he replied, tapping his cell phone. “This is gold.”  
    “Gimme that,” Jason said, plucking the phone from Damian’s hands. Guessing Damian’s passcode correctly (it was currently “grays0nsux”), he watched as Dick bellowed from the back of Batcow as he passed through the fields of Wayne Manor.   
“Damian, I swear, I will give you ten bucks if you give me a copy of this file,” Jason stated as Damian plucked the phone from Jason’s hands.   
“Deal, Todd.”  
    “Deal? NO DEAL!” Dick shouted, panicking. Damian might not be one to post it on the internet, but Jason certainly was.  
“Enough, enough,” Bruce chided. “Well, that’s almost everyone. Where’s Tim and Alfred?”  
“Tim’s in his “office” and I think Alfred’s in the kitchen,” Jason replied. “Why? Is something happening?”  
Tim Drake was Bruce’s third adopted son, and managed the finances for the farm. Unlike the other three, Tim was not particularly athletic, preferring to stay at his computer and crunch numbers. The most Bruce ever managed to get Tim to do is ride a horse.  
Alfred was his parent’s best friend and one of the farmhands. After his parents died, Alfred was like a second father to Bruce, and Bruce attempted to limit how much Alfred worked (but it did not stop Alfred from trying.)  
“Yes and no,” Bruce started. “Something hasn’t happened yet but it might be happening.”  
“Alright Sphinx,” Jason touted, “Spit it out.”  
“No. I want to do this as a family.”  
“Ooh, family meeting,” Dick joked, “I wonder which one of us is getting voted off the farm.”  
    “It’s definitely you, Grayson,” Damian replied.  
“Hey!”  
Bruce interrupted the bickering. “I suggest that if you want to know what I have to say, you find Alfred and Tim. I’ll meet you guys in the living room.” Bruce turned away. “Oh, and Dick?”  
“Yeah, Bruce?”  
“Take a shower.”  
Bruce walked off as he heard the sounds of Damian and Jason chuckling.


	2. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family meeting. Hopefully fists won't fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have a limited knowledge of the economy and business. I do my best here.

Family meetings were possibly Jason Todd’s least favorite thing on the planet. Especially because they usually concerned him. God, he could hear them now. “Jason, you need to stop being so reckless.” “Jason, we’re only here to help.” Sure. Right.  
Luckily tonight’s subject was not Jason’s lifestyle choices, and focused on something possibly more depressing. Jason wasn’t sure how the finances of the farm were going, but he had an idea that it wasn’t great. Maybe not enough to go completely under, but enough that they might have to downsize. And probably the first thing to go would be the horses. Phenomenal.  
Jason kicked his feet up on the coffee table, the second one arriving to the family meeting. Tim beat him there, his clean black T-shirt and jeans standing out almost painfully against Jason’s beaten up flannel and boots. Jason might be the black sheep, but Tim was certainly the odd one out.  
Jason looked at Tim. Tim seemed a little jittery. Dammit. Goodbye, horses.  
Tim was Wayne Manor’s number one financial guru. He knew the property value to the penny at any given moment, and was trusted more with the finances than Bruce himself. It was pretty apparent just looking at him that he did not do any of the manual labor on the farm. The first time Tim tried to milk a cow was the last time (he wasn’t fond of getting kicked). Tim had found his niche in numbers, and that is where he continued to prosper. If Tim was nervous, there was probably good reason to be.   
Jason cracked his knuckles. Time to prod the beast.  
“So, Timmy,” Jason crooned, “Something on your mind?”  
Tim whipped his head towards Jason, looking at him in the eyes. “No,” he asserted.  
“Really?” Jason raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be sweating a lot over nothing.”  
“Do you ever shut up?”  
“Nope.” Jason grinned. “We all know that something’s up for Bruce to call a family meeting, and I want the inside scoop.”  
“You’ll get it. Can’t you wait for five minutes?”  
“When interrogating you is this fun? No way.” Jason reclined in the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. “I’m just wondering how my job status is.”  
“That’s right,” Tim smirked, gaining confidence. “You’ll be the first to go.”  
“Do you two ever play nice?” Bruce asked, entering the room.  
“Where’s the fun in that?” Jason retorted. “Life around here would be a lot duller without the two of us at each others’ necks, wouldn’t you say so?”  
“In this situation, I’d say ‘duller’ could be equated to ‘peaceful’, something I’d kill for,” Bruce replied, sitting next to Jason on the couch with a sigh.  
Jason got serious. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”  
“Yeeeeeeep,” Bruce replied, sinking further into the couch.  
“Shit.”  
“Nice vocabulary, Jason,” Dick replied from behind, drying his hair. He was still wearing a bathrobe.  
“Nice outfit, Dick. Will I be seeing you on America’s Next Top Model?”  
“Ha, ha. Very funny. At least I shower.”  
“At least I don’t spend most of the time in the bathroom admiring my reflection.” Even Tim chuckled at that one.  
“Todd may have you there, Grayson,” Damian announced, finally entering the living room.  
“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” Dick joked.  
“Given the current state of affairs, you might have to,” Jason added, smirking.  
“Enough,” Bruce announced, feebly lifting up a hand. “If you continue to bicker not only will you not get to hear what I’m going to say, but I’m going to have a headache and return the favor.”  
Alfred entered with sandwiches. The room quieted down.  
“Things aren’t great,” Bruce began. “We’re still above water but our toes are about to get wet. Harvey and the rest of them are not only buying out our competition, but our customers too. With their farms--or should I say factories--they’re cranking out double what we harvest in half as much time and half of the cost. Tim, tell them what you told me.”  
Tim shifted uneasily. “Profit margins are down--”  
“No, I mean the end result,” Bruce interrupted.  
“Oh. Well. We have about a year, tops.”  
“A year for what?” Dick asked, carefully snatching one of the sandwiches.  
“At this current state, a year until we go bankrupt. We’re the last noncommercial farm in Gotham, and soon we won’t exist at all.”  
“Phenomenal,” Jason grunted.  
“Which begs the question--how do we get ourselves out of this?” Bruce continued.  
The room was silent for a moment. The weight of what had been said was beginning tos et in. No one wanted to say goodbye to such a wonderful place, especially their home.  
“Well,” Dick began, “I’m not sure how feasible this is, but…”  
“Hm?” Bruce prompted, looking interested.  
“It’s just...I don’t know that we get enough attention here. I mean sure, the locals know us, but apart from them? Our brand is nonexistent. We should get some advertising out or something…”  
“That’s a start. But it’s not going to bring us all the way.”  
Jason rolled his eyes. “Why don’t we also bring more people on the farm itself? I could do some riding lessons or something, and we have enough land to do some sort of event. Carnival, maybe? We could have pony riding for the kids, live music, petting zoo, you name it.”  
“Yes!” Dick agreed enthusiastically. “Rent a couple of rides and get some local restaurants to have food stands. It would be great.”  
Bruce smiled. “That is actually a great idea. If we make it right before the rodeo, we’ll still have a bunch of visitors from out of town who are staying for the week. We could make a tidy profit that can start our advertising endeavor.”  
Everyone looked at Tim. He stood there, thinking critically of the situation. Jason could almost see the numbers flashing in his eyes as he tried to figure out if it was worth it. The corner of Tim’s mouth upturned in a half-smile. “This is a good start.”  
“Then it’s settled,” Bruce declared. “We have two months to plan the carnival, so we better get started. Tim, I want you to look into renting the equipment. Jason, figure out which animals will best be suited for both the riding and petting zoo and start socializing them more. Dick, plan the entertainment and food options. And Damian: I’ll put you in charge of the carnival games. We’ll have different events planned for each day so we won’t be spread too thin and we’ll encourage people to show up all three days. Sound like a plan?”  
It was possible that for the first time, the family was in agreement.


	3. Musical Shower. Shower Musical?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Travolta would be proud. Maybe. Probably not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mega delay. I definitely have thought about this fic, it's just been a while since I've actually had anything decent to add to it. Hopefully updates will be a little more smooth (but no promises)
> 
> Chapters might be on the shorter side, but it'll fit better with the flow. Especially with upcoming chapters, it's definitely going to be more of a focus on Dick and Jason than the rest of the family, but that doesn't mean they'll be absent in any sense of the word.
> 
> I appreciate all of your kindness and support. Thank you so much.

Dick Grayson was many things, but an early bird was not one of them.

So when his alarm went off at 4 a.m. every morning for the start of the day, it took every fiber of his being to keep himself from just turning the alarm off and going back to sleep. He groaned, and tossed and turned, but he kept his hand from slapping that alarm into oblivion. Even though he really wanted to.  
With a big stretch and a sigh, Dick grasped for his phone and squinted at the bright screen. He smiled, and opened Messages.

Babs: u awake?  
Dick: no lol  
Babs: mmhmm figured  
Babs: you know theres a saying about getting up early  
Dick: that it sucks?  
Babs: after this many years of working with bruce i thought you would have been over this by now   
Dick: no one can get used to torture  
Dick: smh  
Babs: you poor soul  
Babs: it must be so hard to avoid being pranked by your little bro  
Babs: im sure batcow is laughing her ass off  
Dick: HOW DID YOU FIND OUT  
Babs: j sent me the pics  
Babs: one is my new wallpaper  
Dick: i should have expected this sort of betrayal  
Dick: j better watch out  
Babs: u sure  
Babs: last time u and j had a prank war u ended up completely bald  
Babs: not even ur eyebrows were saved  
Babs: btw i hope ur still checking ur shampoo before u use it  
Dick: that will be nothing compared to my retribution :))))))  
Babs: alright mastermind  
Babs: don't u have some cows to milk  
Dick: hA  
Dick: yeah  
Dick: among other things  
Dick: bruce and the gang are hosting a mega carnival  
Dick: and i get to plan the entertainment  
Dick: or be the entertainment :D  
Babs: oh really  
Dick: we gotta have some live music  
Babs: and?  
Dick: anddddd i play guitar  
Babs: and  
Dick: aanndndndnd i sing  
Babs: AND  
Dick: aanandndndn i was wondering if youd be willing to sing with me again :D  
Babs: like you could do it by yourself ;)  
Dick: of course not  
Dick: just wanted to make sure you were committed >:D  
Babs: says gotham’s most eligible bachelor  
Dick: haha WRONG. im #2 behind bruce….just lookin for the right gal ; )  
Babs: you’re right about being #2  
Babs: don’t you have some actual work to be doing again  
Dick: meanie  
Babs: lol i’d quote grease rn but i’m not going to let your family get tortured by your singing   
Dick: too late  
Dick: I BETTER SHAPE UP  
Dick: CUZ YOU NEED A MAN  
Babs: gtg have fun getting your ass kicked

Dick, belting the lyrics to the entire score of Grease, clutched his phone as he made his  
way to the bathroom that he had the misfortune of sharing with Jason. With all luck, Jason was still snoozing so he’d get dibs on the shower.  
Dick peeked his head through Jason’s door, where the alarm was blaring but not able to overpower the sound of Jason’s snoring. Score.  
Continuing his rendition (or perhaps ruin) of one of the greatest musicals of all time, Dick quickly stripped and hopped in the shower after letting the cold water get out of the pipes. He tousled his dark hair under the rushing water, thinking about how good his muscled body must look under the running water, when OH GOD IT GOT HOT.  
Dick squealed, making his John Travolta impression get suspiciously similar to Olivia Newton-John as he fumbled with the knobs on the shower. He put the faucet all the way on cold just to get it to a tolerable level, and soon found himself a human popsicle. Somewhat less panicked, he adjusted the knobs to a reasonable level, and heard the distinct sound of laughter.  
Launching himself from the shower, buck naked, Dick Grayson tackled Jason to the floor, soaking Jason in his pajamas and not giving a shit about dignity.  
“OH GOD GRAYSON WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS,” Jason screeched, trying to worm his  
way out out of possibly the worst situation of his life.  
“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET, BITCH,” Dick cackled, reaching for a towel. He’s pretty sure he’s gone a level that Jason wouldn’t have even thought of. If that’s a good thing will be something for him to contemplate later.  
“WHY’D YOU DO IT NAKED OH GOD I’M GONNA VOMIT”  
“You’re just jealous Roy isn’t as hot as me,” Dick replied, standing up. Thankfully he had saved Jason from seeing him in his full glory. Jason likely would have gone blind.   
“Shut up, asshole,” Jason grumbled, prying himself off the floor. Dick couldn’t help but notice the blush creeping up on Jason’s cheeks. “You need to get a better taste in movies. And a better singing voice.”   
“GREASE IS A CINEMATIC MARVEL. AND I THOUGHT YOU WERE SLEEPING.”  
“Why would I sleep when I can just ruin your life?” Jason asked with a grin. “Babs told me the pics of you and Batcow captured your ‘true essence’.”  
“That’s it. I’m killing you both. Done. Congratulations.”  
“I know for a fact that you wouldn’t do such a thing when you need someone to cover your ass while you’re sneaking off with Babs all the time,” Jason replied, winking.   
Now Dick was the one blushing. “S-shut up.”  
“Sweet Jesus dude you two have been goggling at each other since Damian was in diapers. And trust me, that’s something I hate remembering. Go clothe thyself before I have to bleach my corneas. It’s my shower time,” Jason said, shoving Dick out the door.  
Dick stood outside the door thinking. It’s true that he’s had a crush ever since he’s met Barbara, but could she feel the same way? Weren’t they just friends? But Jay is pretty close with Babs, isn’t he?  
Hmmmmm. Dick might just have to pry Jason for some more details. After pranking him ruthlessly, of course.  
Things were going to get very interesting.

 

. . .

Jay: your boytoy is a moron  
Babs: god i wish  
Jay: that he’s a moron? wish granted  
Babs: that he was my boytoy  
Jay: god when will this end  
Jay: i try to mediate the two of you for who the fuck knows long  
Jay: but no  
Jay: i get to third wheel on the biggest not-relationship ever  
Jay: yay me  
Babs: ughghhghghgh  
Jay: yeah ik  
Jay: im trying  
Jay: but youre not helping either  
Jay: just go up to him  
Jay: and smooch  
Jay: ezpz  
Babs: if its so easy do it to roy  
Jay: what  
Jay: its not the same  
Jay: 99.9% sure roy doesnt like me that way  
Jay: and i don't want our friendship to get weird  
Babs: well im 99.9% sure dick doesnt like me that way  
Jay: have you seen him  
Jay: he worships the ground you walk on  
Jay: hes just clueless  
Babs: why cant you two just talk about feelings  
Jay: im sorry  
Jay: your autocorrect must be absolutely fucked up  
Jay: because there is no way you just said that  
Babs: jasoonnnnnn  
Babs: we talk about feelings all the time  
Jay: yeah but we’re bffs  
Jay: BIG difference  
Jay: dick’s my brother  
Jay: did i mention he just tackled me naked  
Jay: in a very non hot way  
Jay: so yeah theres no way im looking at him ever again let alone speaking to him about feelings  
Jay: im just going to die alone and thats FINE  
Babs: ghngnghghghghhg  
Jay: stop that  
Babs: hnghghghghghghghhghg  
Jay: ha if its so easy for me to talk to dick why don't you do it yourself  
Jay: jk plz don't hurt me  
Babs: thats it we’re both going to die alone  
Jay: nah we’ll die alone together  
Jay: i’ll get the cats, you get the knitting needles  
Babs: plan  
Jay: let me cleanse myself before dick gets any ideas  
Jay: if he thinks i leave my actual shampoo in the bathroom and not a decoy hes sadly   
mistaken  
Jay: although not entirely sure how he hasnt figured out that that shampoo hasnt been in existence for a year  
Jay: hm i should probably check my actual shampoo before i use it  
Jay: cya babs gl with the blockhead  
Babs: shouldnt i be wishing you the luck with him  
Babs: this prank war will only end in blood and tears  
Jay: counting on it

Making sure both doors were locked and his shampoo was Nair-free, Jason showered and considered how in the world he was going to get two of the most oblivious human beings of the planet to smooch. And a side thought might have been what it would be like to smooch one trucker-hatted redhead himself.


End file.
